


A Foot of Space

by Bookworm1063



Series: CO Countdown 2020 [2]
Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Carry On Countdown (Simon Snow), Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-26
Updated: 2020-11-26
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:33:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27724883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bookworm1063/pseuds/Bookworm1063
Summary: Five times Simon thinks about crossing the space in the dorm, and one time he does.
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch & Simon Snow, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Series: CO Countdown 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2026988
Comments: 9
Kudos: 62
Collections: Carry On Countdown 2020





	A Foot of Space

**1.**

**First Year**

My roommate is taller than me. It’s the first thing I notice.

His hair is longer than mine, too, and he has more bags than me, all lined up in a neat row on the bed he’s already claimed. I set my bag down on the other bed, watching him. It’s probably going to take him hours to unpack all of that.

“So,” I say. “Do you, uh. Want help with that?”

Baz doesn’t look up from his things. “Stay on your side of the room, Snow.”

So I do.

**2.**

**Third Year**

“I know it was you,” I say. “Give it back.”

Baz shrugs. “I don’t know where your books are, Snow. Why would I need them? I have my own.”

“To mess with me,” I snarl. “Where are they, Baz?”

“You might be able to find them if you kept your side a little neater,” Baz says. He looks up from his cell phone to glare at me. “It’s not my fault if you keep losing things in that mess.”

“Fuck you.” For a brief moment, I consider crossing the room to throttle him. Penny’s voice in my head says, _Don’t, Simon. The Anathema. And he’s not worth it anyway._

I storm out of the room instead.

**3.**

**Fifth Year**

It’s late by the time I get back to our room. Baz isn’t back yet, so I go to the bathroom and take a shower, put on clean pyjama bottoms, and stretch out on my bed.

Baz walks in an hour later, just as I’m falling asleep.

“Snow,” he says. “How was your date?” I swear I can hear the sneer in his voice.

“None of your business,” I say. “Why were you out so late?”

Baz raises one eyebrow. “None of your business.”

I know he was out late because he was draining rats in the Catacombs. Because he’s a vampire. I’m tempted to tell him that, to tell him I know.

Baz unknots his tie, removes his sweater, and tosses both onto his bed. His shirt isn’t even wrinkled. He grabs his pyjamas and ducks into the bathroom. I hear the shower running.

I think about crossing the room to look at the sweater and tie—to see if they have bloodstains on them. But if they did, Baz wouldn’t have left them out. He’s too smart for that. He’d probably have burned them on his way back to the room.

I don’t get up from my bed.

**4.**

**Sixth Year**

I usually get back to Watford before Baz does. He’s probably still on vacation at some posh beach—though I can’t imagine Baz trying to get a tan.

For a few days, I’ll have the room all to myself.

I unpack my backpack and put on my new uniform. It’s the last year I’ll have to wear this stupid hat. I’m rubbish at spelling it on, so I put it off to the side for Penelope to deal with when she gets here.

I look over at Baz’s empty side of the room. It’s weird to be here when he isn’t. It’s weird, not seeing his clothes in the wardrobe and his books neatly stacked on his desk, and to not smell cedar and bergamot every time I come back to the room.

I want to see if the scent is still there, on his side of the room. I want to see if the pillows smell like him after a summer apart.

That might be the weirdest thing of all. That I think it’s weird to be here alone.

I grab my hat and leave the room.

**5.**

**Seventh Year**

When I wake up, Baz is crying—or something like it.

The blankets are twisted around him, and his fists are clenched in the sheets. He’s having a nightmare.

I wonder what he’s dreaming about. His mother, maybe.

Some part of me wants to get out of bed and cross the room and shake him awake. I know what nightmares can be like. I don’t think even Baz deserves them.

The other part of me wants to stay as far away from Baz as possible.

I can’t sleep with him thrashing like that, and I don’t know what I’d do if I went over there. I curl up on top of my blankets and watch him until he wakes up, almost an hour later. I don’t fall back asleep until he does.

**+1**

**Eighth Year**

After the Leaver’s Ball, I follow Baz back to Mummer’s House, up the stairs to our room. His room?

My side looks exactly as I’d left it at Christmas. None of my things have been disturbed. Even my wand is still on my nightstand.

“You didn’t touch anything,” I say. Baz shrugs (Shrugging is usually my thing. I think he picked it up from me.)

“I wasn’t sure if you might change your mind,” Baz says. “About coming back. And I did move something—I borrowed a pillow a few times.”

Now that he’s pointed it out, I notice that one of my pillows is missing. I find it on Baz’s bed.

I sit down in my old desk chair. The desk is still covered in my unfinished homework.

Baz sits on the end of his bed, watching me. “Are you alright, Simon?”

“I dunno,” I say. “I think I will be.”

I stand up from the chair. Baz pats the blankets next to him.

I cross the room and fold myself into his side. He wraps his arm around me and kisses the top of my head.

It’s so much better on this side.


End file.
